Steven Seagal IS On The Warpath
by LadyCordeliaStuart
Summary: When a villain from Casey's past threatens Jordan, he finds he's gone after the wrong man's woman. Sequel to Piece of Cake.
1. Chapter 1

"Casey, how much longer?" Jordan wailed. They'd been hiking for _ages. _He may be a Navy Seal/ city cop, but she was just a little lady. She was _delicate!_

"It's right up there," Casey Rybeck breathed softly, looking up at the top of a hill. He strode purposefully to the top and waited as Jordan dramatically staggered up and slumped to the ground.

He watched her with quiet amusement as she gathered herself. They'd been together eight months now. After all the excitement on the USS _Missouri, _Casey had decided that he'd need to stay around for a while and make sure Jordan didn't get in any more trouble. One thing led to another, and now they were out hiking together. She seemed to enjoy having a man who didn't just want to see her in a wet t-shirt, and she was so soft and pretty and vulnerable. He couldn't leave her now.

"You ready for lunch?" he asked as he unpacked their picnic basket. Since he was Casey Rybeck and all, it was more of a rucksack than a basket, but he had been sure to include a towel to keep the food off the ground, and he'd let Jordan make the food when she turned her nose up at his MREs.

They tucked in to a lovely meal of tuna sandwiches, store-bought potato salad, and homemade chocolate chip cookies.

"Just one for me," Jordan insisted. "I have to keep my girlish figure." She had recently landed a job on the hit game show _Bring That Thing! _handing out prizes and generally looking pretty, a job she was very good at.

"Isn't that just terrible?" Casey said as he ate the rest.

"What'd you bring me up here to show me, anyway?" Jordan asked when they were finished.

Casey rose and stepped forward a few paces. Jordan followed him and gasped when she found that the hill ended sharply in a cliff. She tucked into Casey, who wrapped an arm around her. Jordan gazed in awe at the beautiful scenery that stretched out before her. The grey stone of the cliff bled down into a green valley surrounded by snow-capped mountains. The sun peeked out behind one of the mountains in a glorious halo.

"It's gorgeous," Jordan whispered. Casey didn't say anything, but she was used to that.

They sat down together, and Jordan slipped her hand inside Casey's. They enjoyed the scenery and each other's company for the next few hours. They watched clouds go by, they talked (mostly Jordan), and then they just snuggled.

When the sun dipped dangerously near the horizon, Casey got to his feet.

"I should get you home," he said.

"I'm safe anywhere you are," Jordan said. Casey didn't reply, but Jordan could tell he was pleased by the way he swaggered just a little as they walked.

It had been a perfect night.

The next day, Casey got up at 5:00 sharp, as usual. He did his usual workout of 100 pushups, 50 pull-ups, and a five-mile run. As he was running, he noticed a new bakery along the road. It was a perfect opportunity to surprise Jordan with breakfast. He grabbed three plain bagels for himself and a poppy seed one for Jordan- she was so fussy about what she ate.

He ran the rest of the way to her duplex, since she only lived another two miles away. The other family had recently moved out, so until a new one came, Jordan had the run of the place. Casey jogged up her driveway, but something wasn't right. Her door was open. He was always warning her to be careful. This wasn't like her.

He set down the sack of bagels and slipped a hand into his pocket. He might have left his handgun at home, but he never went anywhere without his pocketknife. He crept toward the door and slipped inside.

To the untrained eye, there was nothing too out of the ordinary, but Casey was anything but untrained. He immediately noticed the couch pillow lying in one corner and the five scratch marks in the wallpaper by the door. Then a glint of metal caught his eye. He swept over the Jordan's coffee table and worst fears were confirmed.

Lying on the table was one of Jordan's gold stud earrings. It was weighing down a note written in stark solid letters. Casey picked up the note.

_Remember August 1971, Rybeck? I do. I remember 21 years in prison. I remember waiting for the day I could hunt you down and make you pay. The time has come, friend. At first I thought I'd just kill you. Then I thought I'd kill her instead. Then I thought why not both? I'm going to kill her in front of you. And then I'm going to kill you. See you around._

Casey's hand curled into a fist, crumpling the paper. He thought back. 1971. He was a rookie cop back then. He'd only made one big bust before he joined the Navy. Just one big bust… a freelance mob hitman.

_Krade._


	2. Chapter 2

Lieutenant Rybeck sat in his patrol car, scoping out a shady area of town and watching for suspicious activity. He and his unit knew the Andolini family was set to hit their rivals the Collodi family any time now, but they were still waiting for details.

His radio crackled with static. It solidified into a voice.

"Lieutenant Rybeck, come in," a curt voice said.

"Roger, Sergeant," Casey answered.

"Tattaglia talked. It's not a battle after all. They're after Don Collodi. They sent Krade," the voice finished.

Casey muttered a curse after he set down his transmitter. Max Krade was the Andolini's newest hired gun. In the six months he'd been active he'd made quite a name for himself. He was a ruthless butcher, cutting down anyone from rival mobsters to errant witnesses. His body count reached double digits when he took Don Andolini's six year old daughter from her kindergarten and left her in a ditch. The war that incited was just icing on the cake for him.

"Where is he?" Casey asked.

"We think he's headed for the rendezvous point at Gino's. He'll be there any minute- hurry, Rybeck,"

"On it," Casey said. He gunned the engine and wound perilously through the crowded streets, his siren warning people to get out of his way. He screamed around a corner with two wheels off the ground and slammed on the brakes in front of Gino's Italiano Plaza, an unassuming restaurant tucked into Little Italy. Through the front windows he could see Dons Collodi and Andolini sitting at a corner table, conversing secretively.

Casey leapt out of his car, drawing his handgun and searching for any sign of Krade. He strode into the restaurant, bringing sidelong glances from the two Dons. He sat in the opposite corner from them, waiting for anything out of the ordinary.

A door opened between the two corners. Casey turned sharply and watched as a tall, strongly built man exited the men's restroom and walked slowly toward the Dons' table. His short, slightly curly hair was coppery brown, and it framed a harsh, fierce-looking face. Merciless brown eyes stared at the two mobsters as the man's hand smoothly came up.

"Freeze!" Casey shouted as he leapt to his feet. Krade pivoted and opened fire on him, but Casey had already knocked over his table and ducked behind it. Don Andolini darted out a back exit, and Don Collodi ran out the front. Casey sniped at Krade from behind the table, counting his adversary's shots as he did so. When Krade had fired his six, Casey vaulted from the floor and tackled him to the ground.

Krade immediately flipped over and launched his fist into Casey's throat. Casey shrugged it off and tossed Krade off of him and against the upended table. As Casey approached him, Krade grabbed a fallen steak knife off the ground and charged at him. Casey stepped aside as Krade neared him and grabbed his knife arm, twisting it behind him until it broke with a crack. Krade cried out in pain and slammed his forehead into Casey's nose, causing him to lose his grip. He took advantage of Krade's satisfaction to slam his leg into Krade's knee. Krade dropped to his knees with a shriek and Casey brought the flat of his palm crashing into his nose, knocking him backward onto the ground. He flipped the groaning Krade onto his back and snapped a pair of handcuffs on him.

"End of the line, Krade," Casey said as he hauled him to his feet. By that time the commotion had brought additional officers, and they hustled Krade into the nearest squad car.

"That's the last we'll see of him for a long time," one of the officers said to Casey as Krade was shoved into the car.

Krade stared at Casey with a cold intensity that said more than words ever could. Casey returned the gaze until long after Krade was lost to the distance. And somehow he knew his colleague was wrong. This wasn't the last he'd see of Krade. Not by a long shot.


	3. Chapter 3

Jordan slouched on her couch in her nightgown. Really, it was more of a long t-shirt- Casey's, in fact. She was watching taped episodes of _Bring that Thing! _To brush up and get ready for her starring debut. Also, it was just really a fun show. Where else could you see two guys wearing chicken outfits hand a contestant his well-earned prize of fried chicken? As she waited to see where the prize wheel would stop, there was a knock at her door.

"Oh, shoot," Jordan grumbled as she hopped up off the couch. _Who in the world? It's nine o' clock. It must be Casey._

She cracked the door open. It wasn't Casey.

A hulking lumberjack of a man slammed against the door, hurtling it open. Jordan stumbled back and tripped onto the couch.

_What?! _she thought dumbly. _Who? What?_

The man stalked closer, and Jordan desperately scrabbled for something to defend herself with. Her hand brushed across a pillow and she threw it at the man with all her strength. It bounced off and the man continued without pause.

"What are you-" Jordan started. The man scooped her up like a kitten and tossed her over his shoulder.

"Hey! You put me down! What are you doing? PUT ME DOWN!" Jordan screamed. She kicked and flapped her arms wildly, but the man hardly seemed to notice.

Jordan would not be discouraged.

"Let me go! You big jerk, you put me down! Hey! I'm talking to you! You better let me go right now!" she shrieked as the man continued inexorably toward the door. When he reached the frame she stuck her legs straight out and braced against the wood. The man soon gave up pushing and easily folded one leg at a time through the door. As soon as he unfolded one Jordan folded the other, but slowly the inevitable happened, and the man started through the door.

"No no no NO NO NO!" Jordan screamed. She grabbed frantically at the wall with one hand as she pummeled the man's head with her other. Her nails scraped at the wallpaper until it peeled off in five long scratches. The man finally hauled her out of the house, but five good chunks of Jordan's wall were under her fingernails.

"Help! Someone help! Somebody! I'm getting kidnapped! Help!" Jordan continued screaming nonstop as the man carried her toward a beat-up black car.

_There's no on HOME, stupid! _she thought. _You live in the most isolated duplex in the freaking world!_

She kept up the screeching and fighting until the man swiftly transferred her to one shoulder, opened the trunk of the car with his other hand, and dumped her inside, knocking her breath away. He slammed the trunk shut before she could catch her breath.

"Hey! Don't leave me in here! Hey! Are you listening? Let me out! You let me out!" she screamed. She beat at the trunk lid with both hands and kicked it wildly.

_"It's not safe for you to live alone", Casey says, _she thought. _"Don't answer the door without looking," Casey says. Fat lot of good he is now! Hey… why aren't we moving?_

Though she couldn't hear much past the deafening racket she was making, Jordan was still acutely aware of the lack of motor noises or movement. _What's going on?_

After a few moments she heard a door shut, and then the car door opened and closed.

"You're in big trouble! You just wait until Casey finds out!" Jordan threatened.

The engine started. Jordan felt the car start moving, but that didn't stop her.

"Casey's gonna RIP YOUR ARMS OFF and SHOVE THEM DOWN YOUR THROAT and break every bone in your body and BREAK YOUR FACE…"


	4. Chapter 4

Casey was on the move.

He didn't know where Krade was, but he knew where he'd been. San Chago Prison- the worst shithole this side of Alcatraz. It was a maximum security fortress filled with the worst murderers, rapists and terrorists the world had ever seen. This is where he'd left Krade twenty years ago. He'd watched the gates close behind him and known he was where he belonged.

He got out of his car and looked at the skeletal building. Its stark grey stone frame sat like a scar on the barren sunbaked valley that surrounded it. Cliffs in the distance prevented escape attempts, assuming the runner got that far before dehydration made his freedom permanent.

He walked up to the front guard station and took out his badge. Maybe be now being a cop was more a hobby than a job, but it had its privileges.

"Captain Casey Ryback," he said to the sentry. "I'm here for information on one the prisoners."

The sentry looked his badge over and pressed a button. There was a sharp click from the door.

"Go ahead in," the sentry said.

Casey strode in. A placid looking man at the front window looked up at him.

"I need to see the man in charge around here," Casey said calmly.

"Warden? It better be important," the clerk said.

Casey showed him his badge. "Police business, son. You know the kind."

"All right. Hold on a minute," the clerk disappeared into another room. Some time later the door to the prison center opened. A cold-faced man with white hair and a weathered face stepped into the room.

"Captain Ryback?" he asked. Casey nodded, and the man offered his hand. "I'm Head Warden Dufresne. What can I do for you?"

"I need some information on a recently released convict. It seems he may be on his way back," Casey said.

"We wouldn't want that," Warden Dufresne said. "Who's the man?"

"Max Krade," Casey said.

"Krade? Shoot," Warden Dufresne shook his head.

Casey smiled wryly in agreement.

"We have the usual records, but he was a quiet prisoner. Not a model one by any means, but quiet. I don't think we'll have much you don't already know. I suppose he had a cellmate. Sometimes a con is freer with another con."

Casey smiled. "I think that would be very helpful."

Jordan POV

Jordan sat on a ratty bed, arms around her knees. After hours stuck in that cramped trunk, the maniac had swooped her up and carried her into a blocky cement house surrounded by overgrown weeds. He tossed her into a windowless room and locked the door. She'd spent the first hour pounding on it and shouting, but then her voice started to hurt and she figured it was useless anyway.

A quick survey revealed nothing useful in the room. There was a sagging bed with a scratchy brown blanket. Overhead there was a naked light bulb on a chain. It barely lit the room. Opposite the bed there was a mirror hanging on the wall, and the floor was littered with assorted trash.

_What's going on? _Jordan thought despondently. _How can something like this happen? Haven't I dealt with enough lunatics? I don't even know this guy. Where are we? What does he want?_

She swiped at her eyes and sniffled.

"Casey," she called softly. "Casey, please come help. I need you, Casey,"

Everything would be fine if Casey was there. He was so strong and solid. When he held her she knew nothing in the world could hurt her. Did he even know she was gone? How would he know where to look?

She stared at the door and waited for it to open. It would be Casey. He would be coming to get her. But what if it wasn't? What if it was the man? Tears spilled over as she thought about it. What would he want? What was he going to do?

Jordan's arms tightened around her legs until she was an impenetrable ball. Then she raised her head. She looked defiantly at the door. She didn't know where Casey was, or how he would find her. But she knew Casey. She knew he was brave and strong. Whoever the man was, he'd better watch his back. Because Casey Rybeck was coming for him. And he was on the warpath.


	5. Chapter 5

Casey sat by an interrogation table, hands calmly folded on its metal surface. He looked up as he heard footsteps approaching the interrogation room door. A guard walked in escorting a belligerent younger man with a shaved head and an intricate tattoo. The guard nudged the man down into a chair and handcuffed one of his hands to its arm.

"If he gives you any trouble just call," the guard said, and then he left.

The man glared suspiciously at Casey. Casey smiled and extended at arm.

"Hello, son, I'm Captain Casey Rybeck," he paused and waited for an introduction.

The man said nothing and sat stonily.

Casey leaned back and sighed. "I already know who you are, boy. I know you're in with the White Fence and you've got a rap sheet as long as your sentence. I know I've cleaned better things than you off my toilet."

"Then what do you want, _pinche pendejo?" _the man snarled.

Casey didn't miss a beat.

"I want to know about your cellmate. We go back a long way," he said softly.

"Krade? He was nuts, man. I don't wanna complain- he kept the tough guys away- but all he ever talked about was some punk cop and what was he was gonna do to him when he got out," the man said.

"Did he give you any details? A location of a hideout?" Casey asked.

"Why would I tell you? I ain't no snitch. All we got in here is our honor," the man said.

"It will be worth your while. Maybe you'd like to be laundry duty instead of outside digging ditches in the sun? Maybe you've got a little senorita back home who could use a few conjugal visits?" Casey said.

"Why would you do that for me? Why you wanna know so bad? Oh…" the man said. He smirked at Casey and sniggered crudely. "You're the punk. You're the one he never shut up about. You got a senorita, whitey? I hope so. Krade told me so many times what he was gonna do to her. Kept me company a lot of lonely nights. You wanna hear about that?"

As he drew in another breath to continue, Casey's hand clamped around his throat and yanked him forward until his handcuff jerked him back. The man's eyes flew wide open and the air stopped in his throat.

"I want to hear where Krade is," Casey whispered. "Is that simple enough for you? I want to hear exactly where Krade went the moment he left this pit. Are you going to tell me, or do I have to ask again?"

He tossed the man back in his seat. The man gasped in air and sat shaking with rage and fear.

"What you doing, cop? You can't do that. I want a lawyer," he said in a hoarse voice.

"You want a lawyer? You want the guards to come rescue you from the big bad wolf? Go ahead. Give them a call," Casey said. He slapped the man lightly. "Call them. I'm waiting."

The man said nothing. Casey slapped him harder.

"I think we both know how it is. I'm a cop. You're nothing but a con. Justice is blind, but you know one thing about us cops? We protect our own," Casey said.

The man hurled a string of profanities at Casey. Casey waited until he was finished, then grabbed him by the back of the head and smashed his head against the table. The man screamed and blood ran freely from his nose.

Casey grabbed his collar and pulled him so close their noses were inches apart.

"You ready to help me now?" he said serenely.

The man's lip curled into what looked like the mother of all vulgarities. Casey transferred his grip to the man's shattered nose and twisted mercilessly.

The man squealed like a stuck pig. His free hand shot up to break Casey's grip, but Casey's other hand snatched it and bent it back until the man's fingers touched his wrist. Casey kindly let go of the man's nose so he could stop screaming long enough to talk.

"There's a cabin," he whimpered. Casey didn't let up on his wrist.

"Was that so hard?" he asked.

Within minutes Casey had a complete address and description of the cabin, which was an old dropoff point for drug deals. He also had detailed directions. He stood up quickly. The man flinched back in his seat. Casey walked past him to the door and let the guard in.

"You'd better get him back to his cell," Casey said of the bloodied, trembling prisoner. The guard looked at him and smiled knowingly. "Poor man just suddenly got a nosebleed."


	6. Chapter 6

Jordan jumped as the door opened suddenly. The giant strode in.

"What do you want?" Jordan asked tremulously.

The man smiled and said nothing. He sat next to her on the bed.

"Does Casey ride you like you need?" he asked.

"What?" Jordan asked.

"Does he pound you like an animal?" he asked. His hand stroked her thigh. "I know I would."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Jordan said tightly. She pulled her leg away.

The man's arm arced across her body and trapped her against the bed. Jordan scooted back against the headboard. The man's other hand pressed against her ribcage and stroked down across her waist.

Jordan shoved back at the man. He didn't budge. He pressed down on her shoulder, pinning her flat against the bed. Jordan tried to squirm away, but the man held her flat. His hand slid upward toward her chest.

Casey POV:

Casey had almost found his quarry.

He'd just driven into Eagle Gulch, the small town Krade's cabin sat just outside of. His fuel light was blinking insistently, and he pulled into a gas station. He filled his tank and headed inside.

A slobby clerk stood behind the counter. The only other people in the store were three young men lurking next to some lurid magazines. As Casey started to pay, one of them interrupted him.

"Hey, Grandpa, you new in town?" he called as he walked toward Casey. "You gotta pay the tax around here. You wouldn't want any trouble?"

He pulled out a switchblade and clicked the knife into place. His companions flanked him.

Casey looked at the man silently.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to disturb the peace," he said. "Let's just see what I've got here." He reached toward his pocket.

The lead punk snickered and held out his hand expectantly. Casey's hand clamped around it and twisted it violently. The punk screamed and dropped the knife. His companions leapt forward to defend him.

As the leader doubled over, Casey slammed his knee into his nose. The man flew backward and fell heavily on his back.

"Get him!" he barked after sucking in a wet breath.

The other two punks charged at Casey. Casey rammed his pointed fingers into the first man's throat and flipped the other one into the nearest shelf. The first man recovered first and launched a punch at Casey. Casey dodged to the side, waited until the man leaned back for another blow, and smashed him backwards. He half-flipped through the air and slammed onto the ground, where he lay without moving.

Casey turned his attention to the punk who was rising from a pile of broken bottles and merchandise. The punk grabbed a shard and waved it wildly at Casey. Casey snatched his hand and squeezed until blood gushed and a bone cracked. The man fell to his knees and screamed. Casey grabbed a bottle off the shelf and smashed it over his head. The man slumped to the ground.

The lead punk was just getting to his feet as Casey turned around. He searched the floor for his knife and saw it was behind Casey. He looked at his friends and back at Casey. Then he ran out the back door.

Casey watched him go. Then he turned to the man behind the counter, paid for his gas, and laid down an extra bill for the bottle.

"It's worth every penny," he said.

Jordan POV:

Jordan tried vainly to push the man's hand away. Then she heard a door slam open.

Krade jerked up with a scowl and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He stormed to the front door to see one of his dealers holding a bloody nose and panting.

"_What _is it?" Krade demanded.

"Some idiot just blew into town and tore us all up," the man said. "You should go show him who owns this place."

Krade's eyes narrowed.

"Call your boys. I have a job for you," he said.

The man scuttled away.

_Casey, _Krade thought. _I've waited a long time for this. Time to die._


	7. Chapter 7

Casey started down the long dirt driveway that should lead him right to Krade's cabin. He slowed as he drew close enough to see the building through the gaps in the thick forest surrounding it. It was a straight shot, but he stopped as he saw two men on either corner of the house holding rifles. Krade had reinforcements.

Casey peered closely at the guards. They didn't show any sign of seeing him. He got out of the car, picked up a stick off the driveway, and jammed it against the accelerator, smashing his other hand against the wheel.

The car blared deafeningly and shot off straight for the house. The guards jumped up at the noise and opened fire on the car. Bullets riddled its walls, but it didn't stop until it smashed directly into the front door, breaking through with a terrific crash.

Casey drew his pistol and fired at one of the guards, hitting him in the chest. He screamed and collapsed to the ground. The other man followed the noise back to Casey and fired at him. Casey ran through the bullets and shot him twice in the lower chest. As he ran toward the door, he heard at least two more mercenaries inside. He saw two men squeezing around the mangled doorframe and shot the first with his last bullet. The other whipped out a butterfly knife and leaped at him. Csaey smacked him on the head with his pistol and kept going.

"_Krade!" _he bellowed as he stormed into the cabin.

The cabin was silent. There was nothing in it but two doors that led to other rooms. Then Casey heard something.

There was a high-pitched yelp.

"Casey!" Jordan called from behind one of the doors.

Casey tried the door and saw it was locked. He kicked it savagely and it shattered. He charged inside and saw Jordan, who looked very excited to see him. She still didn't look very happy, though, and that was probably because Krade was standing right behind her with his arm around her neck.


	8. Chapter 8

"Krade," Casey said softly.

Krade smiled.

"Ready to lose everything, Rybeck?" he asked. "I'm going to tear you apart, but first I'm going to cut her into piece And you get to watch."

Casey just glared.

Krade caressed Jordan's neck and pulled her head back. She whimpered.

"Maybe we'll have some fun first," Krade said. "Maybe I'll show her what a man is." He licked her slowly from her chin to her ear.

"You're no man," Casey said. "You can't even fight your own battles. You have your cronies do it for you."

He dropped his empty gun and beckoned Krade forward.

"Show me what you got, boy," Casey taunted. "Rip me apart in front of her and then make me watch."

Krade threw Jordan to the side and she crawled to the other side of the room. Krade roared and charged at Casey. Casey sidestepped and used Krade's momentum to throw him forward into a wall. Krade leaped back up and threw a punch at Casey. Casey blocked it and flipped him to the ground. He hauled Krade upright and elbowed him in the face. Krade tackled Casey to the ground. Casey hit him in the nose with a flattened hand and scrambled to his feet.

Krade grabbed Casey's throat, and Casey grabbed his back. They stood growling and straining at each other for a moment. Then Casey karate chopped Krade's arm aside and twisted it until the elbow was straight up.

Krade shrieked as his bone was stretched to its breaking point. Casey pressed down on it and folded it backwards until it snapped with a crunch and Krade's hand touched his shoulder. Krade shrieked again. He knelt on the floor and whimpered as Casey continued to hold his arm. Casey wrapped his other arm behind Krade's neck and pulled it tight.

"You fucked with the wrong man, Krade," Casey said softly. He jerked hi arm backwards and sideways. There was a snap as Krade's neck shattered.

Casey dropped him and walked over to Jordan. She was still curled up in the bedroom, trying not to get caught in the crossfire. He wrapped his arms around her and helped her to her feet. She buried her face in his chest and sobbed.

Casey patted her hair and held her close. He wasn't one for words, but he knew as long as he lived he would always keep her safe.


End file.
